


Selkie

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 00:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A French fisherman falls in love with a selkie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selkie

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another prompt off the what_the_fruk lovefest: fisherman!Francis falling in love with selkie!Arthur. I combined the male and female selkie legends a bit, and I started worm vomiting. The writing style is kind of different than my usual, but I wanted to make this sound more like a legend-story than story-story.

The British isles were said to be best for fishing in fall. Francis was one among many who made the voyage from mainland Europe to the islands.

Early evening, another fisherman called to Francis to pack up the remaining nets and call it a night. He did as told; he didn’t mind. It was warm out, and the air was pushing the rotten fish smell that he would never become accustomed to back to sea.

He walked off the docks down the shore along the Atlantic.

In the fading sunlight, he caught sight of a body in the distance hopping along the bluffs. A sudden fear griped his chest. He scrambled down the cliff faces, hugging the wall as his feet slipped over uneven steps.

“Bonjour? Etes-vous d’accord?”

He came to an abrupt stop, losing his balance and falling back on the rocks.

A boy, completely naked in the warm evening air and seemingly not caring in the least for modesty, stared down at Francis from a very short distance away. Francis’ breath caught in his throat, for the boy was quite breathtaking. He was younger than Francis by a few years, of wiry build and fair features. His eyes were the colour of lush moss.

“Qui etes-vous? Who are you?”

“. . .”

“You do not speak?”

“Of course I can speak. My name is. . .” He stopped, cocking his head to the side and then looking back towards the sea.

Francis took a step towards him, and the boy leapt away. He was surprisingly fast among the craggy rocks. Francis followed the him to the bottom of the cliff steps before realising he was alone. The only living creature he saw was a lone seal shuffling down the shore into the breaking waves. It looked back once, barked, and dove into the water.

“He laughed at me . . .”

~ x ~

The boy was a selkie. Other sailors shared their stories of the magical creatures with Francis, swearing up and down they had not been drunk when they saw the man or woman slip out of their seal skins to dance on the beach or seduce a villager, leaving them the next morning.

“Is there any way to keep them on land?” Francis asked curiously. The sailors laughed and clapped him on the back.

“A lady take your heart, lad?” they joked.

He learned that to keep a selkie as a human on land, he would have to hide its skin. As long as they could not turn back into a seal, they would stay on land. Some even had human families.

He returned to the beach after finishing work that evening. He rolled up his pant legs and waded into the gentle pull and push of the waves and waited. Day after day, he returned to the beach where he last saw the seal shuffling to sea and waited.

Finally, many weeks after the first and last meeting, Francis sat on the end of the dock with his feet in the water, leaning against the post that held the docks up in the water and dozing in the cool breeze. Something nibbled at his feet, and he swished them back and forth a bit to deter the fish. The nibbling came again, however, and he leaned forward to peer into the water.

A whiskered face stared back at him. It barked and nudged his calf. Francis smiled. “I was waiting for you.”


End file.
